Thin Lines and Alibis
by Bellsie805
Summary: There were thin lines that he had crossed and alibis they had told and House was not sure what to believe.
1. Well, We Were Born To Die

**Author's Note: Bare with me here. Subject's a little touchy, but it'll improve. I'm not sure if I'm going to finish this or not, but let us enjoy the journey. I don't own "R & J", any of Shakespeare's works, Dylan's stuff, The Postal Service stuff, or House & Co. The rating may seem a tad weak, but I don't think this is too extreme. Please let me know if the rating needs to be upped. I'm mature as a teen, so I'm kind of bad with ratings. **

CAPULET: And so did I. Well, we were born to die.

–_The Tragedy of Romeo and Juliet_, Act III, Scene IV, Line 4

The book that lay on the table next to the hospital bed was covered in a purple stretch "Booksox". House had picked it up and flipped it to the page that was bookmarked. _Romeo and Juliet_, the tragic, old love story that he had read ages ago in some English literature class that he had been forced to take. He was a math and science guy, as his career bespoke, and English lit brought him endless hours of unending torture.

He let the book's weight behave as ballast in his one hand, as in the other hand he held fast to his cane. Purple, the color of royalty, he thought. The color of bruises, the color of plums…

"Would you kindly put my book down? I have three more acts to read in there before I can go to sleep," the body on the bed told him.

House set the book down and swung-walked his way to the end of the bed.

"Tell me," he looked at his chart, "Miss Williamson, what brings you here today? I know your uncle and that's the only reason why I'm treating you and not the rest of my team."

"I don't know, that's why I'm here. _You're_ supposed to tell me what's wrong," she snapped back.

"Are you always like this? Because if not, this can be constituted as a change in mood, and thus possible and medical condition."

"Yes, of course, I'm always like this. Have you figured out why my uncle didn't want to treat me yet? Now, find out what's wrong with me and let me go home. I have three projects to do and this is so not helping my GPA."

He watched as she grabbed the English Lit book and flipped to the page that was bookmarked.

House stalked over to her and snatched the book out of her hands, snapping it shut with a loud "THWACK!"

"Hey! I need that book!" She protested.

"You better sleep or I won't release you so you can go work on that precious GPA of yours," he told her.

"I've dealt with people like you before. The tortured soul with an unimaginable amount of baggage? Please, that's why my uncle asked you. Because I can't sit in a bed acquiescing to some softhearted doctor all day. So, until you find out what's wrong with me, you're stuck with me."

House thinly grinned.

"A challenge?"

"You betcha."

She smiled flirtatiously and he left the room, running into Cameron as he left.

"I want a pregnancy test on the girl in there," he told her and flipped the file at her.

Cameron scanned it quickly.

"She's fourteen!" She exclaimed with alarm.

"So? She's already flirting with me. You might be able to take lessons with her. She does a hell of a job at it."

"For your information, even _thinking_ like that is pedophilic. And her uncle is Dr. Williamson, Vice-Chairman of the board!"

"And I didn't see him trying to save me when Vogler wanted me gone. And I'm only thinking like a person who would want to do something that heinous to girl. Please, I'm not a monster."

"Some would disagree."

They arrived in the lobby, House headed for the elevator when someone stopped him.

"Dr. House?"

"Yes, the one and only."

The man looked to be in his early forties with a thin layer of short gray hair, which looked like a Brillo pad. He was tall, probably six feet, and was lean. His eyes were clear with a tint of gray.

"Listen, my name is Greg—"

House felt Cameron stiffen next to him.

"What a coincidence. I'm Greg, too! Nice to meet you, Greg. Now what may I do for you today?" The sarcasm was barely concealed in his voice.

"I'm a teacher and you have one of my students here. Emily Williamson? I was wondering if I could possibly go in and see how she's doing. She was in my class when she collapsed yesterday," he explained.

House raised an eyebrow and Cameron responded.

"Sure, right this way. Visiting hours end in ten minutes, but she's right down here. I'll show her to," she said politely and ushered him down the corridor.

As soon as the man was out of sight, House hit the "down" elevator button.

"Pedophile, huh?"

The elevator was empty and there was no response. An easy case, he thought. Something wasn't right and that girl had to be pregnant. She was certainly flirty enough to be foolish.

_Women_, he sighed and closed his eyes as the elevator descended. He never liked elevators, the feeling of helplessness as a closed container shot down a shaft.

Hehe. Double-entendres. Where was Cameron when he needed her?


	2. We Will Become Silhouettes

**Author's Note: Thanks for the feedback. I have no idea where I am going with this story. Hehe. None, but I think I have a vague clue as to what I'm doing. **

_And we become silhouettes when our bodies finally go._

—We Will Become Silhouettes, The Postal Service

House walked through the glass doors of his office to find his three underlings, Cameron, Chase, and Foreman looking grimly at some paperwork.

"Good morning. Everyone seems so _perky_ today. What did Chase sing? Foreman dance? Cameron strip? Damn, I need to be on time more often."

Cameron was not amused.

"Williamson is pregnant."

"Dr. Williamson? Someone call Ripley's, and then Guinness' and let them know we have a freak on our hands. Are you three that stupid? Honestly…"

"_Emily_ Williamson."

"Oh, of course, the flirty girl. I knew that. Did you find out who she had sex with yet?"

Cameron glared at him again.

"I went in to ask her some questions and she denied being "sexually promiscuous" and threw her English Lit book at me. Why don't you go in there and see what you can do? She apparently has taken a liking to you."

House sighed.

"Jealous, Cameron?"

"No."

"Cameron, did you find out what school she goes to from that teacher?"

"Yeah, he mentioned it."

"Good. All right, you two,"—he pointed at Foreman and Cameron—"have the more personable personalities. Go to her school and find out what the story is over there. Talk to her friends and her teachers. She seems to hold her cards close to her chest. See if she has a diary or something they know of that might be helpful. Chase, because of your debonair looks you're staying with me and dealing with her. Did you people run an MRI on her?"

"Yes and blood work. But why are we keeping her here? She's not sick," Chase stated.

"_Because_," House returned.

"She's pregnant, House, not sick," Cameron backed Chase up.

"She's pregnant, and where are her parents? Have you seen them around lately? Check for Rohypnol, Ecstasy…anything in her system that links her to the possibility of being raped without her knowing."

They nodded and left the room.

"Cameron!"

The woman turned around, with one hand on the door, suspended with an inquisitive look on her face.

"Go to the school today."

"We will."

Cameron let the door shut behind her. House also left the room after he made sure she had disappeared down the hallway into the sea of people. He needed to talk to Emily Williamson. Something was not quite right. He wasn't a cop or a detective, but this was his patient, and there was something wrong.

He hobbled down to the girl's room scowling at any one who dared come near to talk to him. He had business to attend to.

He pushed open the glass door to find Chase drawing some blood from a very virulent girl.

"Hurry the hell up! This is _not_ pleasant!" She moaned.

"Just a few more seconds."

Chase finished taking the blood and bid the patient a farewell. He looked coldly at House before exiting the room, leaving the two bitterest people in the hospital alone and together.

"Where are your parents?"

"Europe."

"Really? And they left you with your uncle?"

"Yes, of course. I do have school."

"Do they go to Europe often?" he queried.

"Why are you so interested in my parents?" She shot back.

"You've had one visitor—your teacher. You've been here for three days. Your parents would have been in here at least once."

She looked at him and tilted her head to the side.

"You think I went out and screwed every boy in school don't you?"

"No, I have an idea who you've screwed, but I'll know better by this afternoon."

Emily sighed.

"Why are you keeping me? Did your little minions tell you what I said when I was told I was…_pregnant_?" The word left her mouth with such distaste that House thought she would spit.

"Enlighten me."

"Iwantanabortion."

Her words came out strung together and House barely understood them.

"What?"

"I. Want. An. Abortion."

He looked at the girl and saw the defiance in her face. Her brown eyes dared him to argue with her and her strong jaw was set.

"Well…"

"Today, tomorrow…by the end of this week. Just get me what I want."

Her eyes had narrowed and for once in his life House was unsure of what he was facing. This girl was a piece of work he decided.

"We'll talk later."

She would have objected, but his eyes looked like he would deny her her wish if she argued.

As he closed the door on her room, Wilson walked by him.

"Williamson's niece?" He questioned as he fell into step next to House.

"Williamson's niece, the pain in the ass, yes," he replied.

"So, now you know how I feel?"

"Of course not. I have to go find Williamson. Have you seen the windbag lately?"

"Check the clinic. He likes to hang out there to hide from the tough cases."

House sighed.

"Please, please accompany me into the pit of very annoying sick people," House mock begged.

"Yes, of course, I'll accompany you, _Princess_."

House stopped in his tracks and whacked Wilson in the leg with his cane.

"I don't like those comments," he hissed.

"That was uncalled for! Jesus that hurt!"

Wilson was bent over his knee tending to it and House was scowling at him, when the man that they had been looking for, Dr. Eric Williamson walked by the cripple and the infirm.

"Boys, do you work?"

"Yes, on the occasion," House replied.

"How's my niece?"

"Haven't you visited?"

"No, she'd bite my head off."

"Where are her parents?"

"Didn't you look at the chart?"

"Her chart contained no background information. Just her medical history. Do you see something wrong here?"

"I'll look for it, but I don't know if I an find it. But, just to fill you in, my sister and brother-in-law died when she was seven. She's lived with me since."

House frowned.

"Thank you, Eric."

Williamson and Wilson both looked confused as House left with an amiable sentiment and hobbled off as quickly as he possibly could.

"That was…odd," Williamson commented.

"That was House," Wilson told him.

House burst into the Emily's room.

"Why did you lie to me?" He asked a tad furiously.

The empty bed didn't answer back.


	3. The Weight of Their Smiles

**Author's Note: I still have no idea where this is going. I won't just stop and leave all those lovely reviewers and readers out there stranded. I'm not that mean. Princeton High School is a real school, no idea what it looks like, though, and am taking the description from my own school. Also, another note, my uncles are both doctors, but that doesn't mean I'm destined for a medical future, so don't look to see a complicated disease. Please, I don't have that much time on my hands. Oh, and one more note, even though this is getting out of hand—I'm really breaking this down into chunks and it will jump. Just trust me here. **

_And the weight of their smile's just_

_Too much for you to bear._

—Problem Girl, Rob Thomas

Foreman guided the car into the parking lot of the Princeton High School. The sprawling, two-story, yellow-brick building was set back from the road slightly and had around it a grassy area with some large oaks growing on the lawns, to provide shade in the summer and an impressive allusion for those prospective adults who were looking for some place to send their "adorable" children.

Cameron flipped her phone shut. She had just finished her conversation with the teacher, Greg Anderson, who had agreed to meet them to discuss his student.

"So, do we have to head to the main office first? I'm sure you're better at this whole school thing than I am."

"Of course. He said to go down there, get passes so we can go through the halls and then his room is on the second floor, 228."

They exited the car and walked up the concrete steps to get into the school.

"Why is House so interested in this case?" Foreman asked as he opened the door to Cameron.

"No idea. She's not sick, other than the fact that's she pregnant. I don't know. She's not my ideal patient, though."

"House's maybe."

Cameron shook her head in agreement.

They walked through the door of the office and saw a woman with a gray bob sitting behind a desk answering the phone. They approached the woman.

"…Of course. No, no, she'll be fine. Yes, I'll talk to you tomorrow. Goodbye."

The phone was set down gently and the woman gifted them with a smile.

"How may I help you folks today?"

"My name's Dr. Foreman and this is Dr. Cameron. We talked to Greg Anderson earlier and he's expecting us."

"Alright…"

The lady scanned the paper in front of her. Her coral pink nail landed on their names and she smiled once again.

"Here are two visitor passes and a map of the school. Greg's room is up those stairs you saw when you came in and on the right. You won't have a problem finding it. If you need anything, you can just come back here."

"Thank you so much," Cameron told her.

"Anytime, my dear."

The two doctors left the room and proceeded up the stairs.

"Isn't it kind of unethical for us to find her diary like House wants us to?" Cameron asked.

"House has no ethics."

Cameron sighed as they arrived outside the door. The classroom was full of lab tables and the teacher's desk appeared to be at the front of the room. The room was empty of students and Cameron pushed open the door first.

The man she had saw the day before with Emily Williamson sat at the front of the room immersed in grading papers.

"Mr. Anderson?" She inquired as she and Foreman slipped into the room.

"Dr. Cameron? Nice to see you again. This must be Dr. Foreman."

He had put his pen down and come around the desk to shake both of the doctors' hands.

"So, I'm assuming you're here to ask me some question about Emily?" Greg Anderson asked as he let his hands rest in his pockets.

"Yes, we do. How old are you, if you don't mind me asking?" It was Cameron who ventured first.

"Forty-five."

"You had Emily as a student?" Foreman asked.

"Yes, first semester. She was in my second block honors' class. Great student. She was fun, too. I like to tease the girls in my classes that men are superior to women—to get them angry, to get them to think. Emmy loves to tease me right back about how women are better than men. She plays pranks on me all the time. It's kind of nice to have a battle of wits with someone, you know? Nicest girl, though. I had to go visit her in the hospital. I know her parents are dead, so…Just a great person," he told them with a tone of wistfulness in his voice.

"Do you know if she had any boyfriends?" Foreman's question.

"None that I know of. As I said, very smart, very opinionated. Guys don't like that in a girl at this age."

"Does she have a lot of friends?" Cameron's inquiry.

"She doesn't have many close friends, that was my observation. She has the respect of many of her classmates, which makes her well liked, but she doesn't seem to trust many people. She does talk to her other teachers, though. I don't know why you're asking all these questions, but they might be able to help."

"What are their names?"

"Lemme right them down for you, Dr. Foreman."

The teacher took a piece of paper and jotted down a few names and their room numbers.

"Okay, Mrs. Keller teaches English, and Em has her for homeroom this semester. Mrs. Mackenzie teaches geometry honors and she and Em seemed to bond. Annie Arnold is her closest friend and I actually think she is in Mackenzie's class right now. You can see what she knows," Greg Anderson offered helpfully.

"One more question before we leave," Cameron ventured.

"Of course."

"Are you married?"

"No."

He looked at her quizzically before she smiled and with Foreman left the room.

"Why'd you ask that?" Foreman questioned.

"My curiosity got the better of me."

She grinned at him and proceeded onto the next classroom.


	4. Hell Hath No Fury Like a Woman Scorned

**Author's Note**: Again, I have no idea where this is going, who the father is, and what I plan to do with this story. I'm not even sure if I like it, but it's probably because I really need to go write an angst-y one-shot. So, yes, again, thanks for the reviews. And Rob Thomas' new CD does rock .

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

_The Mourning Bride,_ William Congreve

House looked at the neatly made bed and found that he had the sudden urge to run to the nearest PA system and announce to the world that Elizabeth Williamson was pregnant.

He refrained, though, because his patient was missing, and, if someone took her, he'd be in deep shit. And he didn't like being in deep shit, no matter how often he seemed to find himself residing in it.

"Wilson was with me, Cameron and Foreman at the school, Chase wouldn't dare help her, and…"

His audible musings drowned off as he realized where the girl had to be.

He left the room and proceeded down the hallway, taking a few lefts and a right. He arrived in front of a glass door with white-painted letters on it. The door read: Dr. Lisa Cuddy.

"Cuddy!" He said boisterously as he pushed open the door to his superior's office. He found her working sitting on the couch in her office and playing a crad game with a certain missing patient.

"Emily Williamson, nice to see you. You should probably get back to bed, considering your delicate "condition". What are you two playing? Rummy? Oh, rummy is not good for a baby."

Cuddy's mouth opened to retort, but it was Emily who stood up, smiled gently, and responded first.

"Oh, yes, that's right. My legs with atrophy but it's all about _my child_. Who's the father, Dr. House? Am I the second coming of the Virgin Mary? I must caution you, though. I'm so confused about my religion that I don't think I'm equipped for this job. Let me digress. While you were out gallivanting with your pretty friend, Dr. Cuddy here saw me lying in my bed all by lonesome and just had to come and get me. I mean, honestly, I was so bored. _Romeo and Juliet_ was okay, but I finished it and I'm done with all the work assigned. My dear friend and I here are playing rummy, but we would really like to play Texas Hold 'Em. We need another player, and were looking for Dr. Wilson, who, Dr. Cuddy assured me, is much more pleasant than you are. But you'll do just as well. What do you say? Up for a game of whup-ass?"

Cuddy was laughing behind her hand and could tell House was going to erupt. Emily had really given it to him, and he really deserved it.

"Get back to your bed. If Dr. Cuddy wanted to play cards with you, she should have done it in your room. I just want to present this situation to you. You're pregnant and I'm assuming that you're lying about not knowing the father. If you aren't lying to me, then I'm assuming you were raped. Which you probably deserve at this point considering you flirt with anything you can. Keep up lying to me. You can't hide everything."

The hiss ricocheted around the room. Cuddy moved towards Emily to try to comfort her after House's stinging comment. Emily flung her arms away and started to walk out of the room, right past House. As she passed him, she stopped right in front of him.

"At least I can take comfort in the fact that when I go to bed at night, I know I wasn't a complete _bastard_ the whole day," she snarled and did something that House probably should have known was coming.

With a swift kick, she managed to knock the cane out of House's hand and watched as the cane fell to the floor. House stumbled for a mere second before grabbing onto the couch.

"Let me know when you figure out who the father is. I'll be eagerly awaiting your expert diagnosis," she said as she stalked out of the room.

"I have to say you had it coming," Cuddy told him.

House reached down for his cane and readjusted his usual, arrogant stance.

"Stay away from my patients."

"Release patients if they're not actually sick."

He walked towards the door, and Cuddy knew that he seemed like he had been beaten by her, but she knew he could not leave without the last word.

He reached the door and started to open it.

"Don't play cards with my patients."

The door opened and closed and House was gone. Cuddy made a mental note to watch over his treatment of a certain vice-chairman's niece.

Emily sat in her room, gazing out the window. Yes, the visitors had been few (one, she conceded to herself), but she didn't blame her friends. She was sarcastic and mean, but she adored every one of them, and thought they adored her.

"When you're in trouble, you really find out who your friends are," she murmured to herself.

Mr. Anderson had come to visit. It was nice of him, really. She had been the meanest to him, but it was all a joke and they both knew that. It was a mutually agreeable situation. They both wanted attention and, although neither would admit, both liked when the other would shower them with that gift.

She had pissed House off, but it wasn't her problem. She was pregnant, and, while she refused to betray her fear, she was shattering inside. She was fourteen and pregnant. She was destined for an Ivy League school, but no one wanted a girl and her child in college. Society didn't agree with that. And, even though Mrs. Keller always preached that they were the future and they had to change the stigmas that permeated society, she just didn't have the strength anymore. Words kept floating through her head. Pregnant. Baby. Pregnant. Baby. Pregnant.

Of course, she knew the answer to the question that House kept asking and she wasn't planning on revealing the solution. If he were so set on digging, she'd let him do the hard work and find the answer. By that time, she'd be out of the hospital, baby-free, and back to work on her GPA.

She added to the linear list of things to-do before and after her stay at the hospital one more item.

_Make House happy_.

And, she believed that happiness lay with a certain female doctor.

She smiled as she snuggled under the covers to catch up on some sleep. Her nefarious plans kept her mind off her the unsettling fact that consumed her.

_She was pregnant_.

**Author's Note: **Which female doctor?


End file.
